Words filled in by yourself.
Su Muzhe·Li Xian
The wind and the moon are white, the lone star is dotted, a piece of music is leaving the string, the passing years are right and wrong.
Frost has withered the summer green hanging from the sky, it is decorated with dew and lotus beads, and the light smoke is like fireflies.
Jinghongying, who is meeting? Red candles are like tears, waving their sleeves to chase shadows.
The sound enters the thirteen strings, and the water falls on the red lotus, just like the wind listening to it.
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Dear Yu.